Oddments
by Bouncebackability
Summary: Bits of stories I am working on at the moment. Feel free to read, but they are mostly here for ease of storage.
1. Past encounters

**Hi everyone, **

**I love writing stories, it's just a shame that there are loads I get stuck on or don't like. So this is sort of like the bags of Mis-shapes you get in Thorntons.**

**Here I will post bits of stories which, for watever reason, are not moving as long as I like. Most will be Harry Potter fan fiction but I may well throw a few original stories in here too. **

**Every now and then one may even be resurected, if you want to carry on a story or can give me ideas on where to go with it feel free to email me or leave a comment in the reviews.**

**Well, I guess thats that bit done. Hope you enjoy, please rummage. There will probably be some pieces of crap in here but I don't want them to put you off. Keep smiling, **

**Kimmiijay Kotchanski**

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Harry was woken by Ron throwing a pillow at his head "Wake up slow coach, look what we have got" He gestured to the small pile of presents at the bottom of his bed. Hermione began to stir, awoken by the commotion in the room. The three were alone in Gryffindor tower this year, not one other person was staying for the holidays so Hermione had decided to temporally move in with the boys. The room was still littered with empty sweet packets from the midnight feast of the night before. Hermione groaned as she got up, but all sleep was eliminated as she spotted her pile of presents at the end of her bed.  
  
The trio took a matter of minutes to rip off the wrapping paper surrounding each packet until the floor was totally covered in various colours of paper. Hermione had got a necklace from her parents and piles of sugar free confectionary and a few other assorted goodies. Harry and Ron had almost identical piles, a set of joke products from the twins, some pies and woolly jumper from Mrs Weasley, a book a piece from Hermione and a couple of other things, including a book of 4 second class stamps from the Dursley's for Harry, rather alarming this could possibly be seen as a improvement on previous years.  
  
After getting changed (Harry and Ron had to turn their backs while Hermione was doing so) it was decided to go to the common room and make a start on the sweets they had received. Before leaving Harry and Ron helped Hermione put her necklace on, it was a finely crafted silver drop with a sole diamond in the centre on a fine silver chain. Walking out of the common room the group heard voices, "Who'd come back on Christmas day? Seems odd," mused Harry.  
  
When they reached the bottom of the fire there were a young couple huddled together.  
  
"Hi guys. When did you get here?" Hermione asked as the couple turned round. The trio gasped in shock and instinctively reached for their wands. In front of the fire sat carbon copies of Lily and James potter. From the red hair and green eyes of Lily to the messy hair and hazel eyes of James  
  
"That's sick, Malfoy if that's you I'll go and give you another shiner." Hermione said in a tone of forced calm.  
  
"What are you going on about? You're the ones who have suddenly arrived out of no where, and what's with the polyjuice potion to look like James?" The woman asked.  
  
Harry was now fuming, his original shock had subsided and now he was fuming "I've been through worse than that Malfoy, that is sick. They are dead, I know they are dead so what is the point? Go back to your common room and leave us alone"  
  
"Yeah, piss off you Slytherin scum" came Ron's reply.  
  
"We seriously don't know what you are going on about. The last Malfoy left here 5 years back and we are definitely not Slytherins. Now, your turn. Who are you and what are you doing here?" The boy stood up and started reaching for his wand.  
  
"Just give up on the joke, it's sick. You know who we are. I'm Ron Weasley, that's Hermione Granger and then you have Harry Potter but you obviously know who he is as I guess he is the target of this stunt."  
  
"There isn't a Harry Potter, trust me, I should know. What the hell are you lot playing at?" Came James reply  
  
Hermione had been sifting through the information in her head and was starting to form a basic conclusion in her head; maybe it wasn't a prank. Maybe something had happened. Maybe the people in front of her were who they claimed to be...but that would mean time travel and that makes no sense. But how would the Slytherins have found out the password and were they really petty and determined enough to go through such an advanced transfiguration for a wheeze?  
  
"Erm, Lily and James? I am not saying I believe you but what year is it?"  
  
"1977, but what has that got to do with the price of fish?" Came the reply  
  
"That's an easy lie to make Hermione. It proves nothing; anyways time travel more than a couple hours is impossible. You know as well as I do that it makes more sense for this to be some Slytherins trying to get a cheap laugh at our expense"  
  
"Ron, think about it. Why would the Slytherins put in this much effort? How would they have got the password, us three are the only ones who know it. That transfiguration if it is a trick is too good for a student"  
  
"We made polyjuice in second year" Whispered Harry, obviously still in shock.  
  
"Polyjuice only works when you have something from the person you want to be, where would they have got anything from your parents Harry? I think someone is in a time they don't belong."  
  
The three lowered their wands and sat by the fire.  
  
"So, what's going on?" Said the possible future mother of Harry rather hesitantly.  
  
"These 2 have gone soft, this is a wind up. Go get your map Harry and we can prove who these pillocks are once and for all." Came Ron's reply  
  
Removing the battered piece of parchment the group knew to be the Marauder's map from his pocket Harry tapped it three times and muttered "I do solemnly swear I am up to no good" to which lines appeared over the paper and sure enough in the common room where 5 dots labelled Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Lily Evans and James Potter.  
  
"Shit" came the simple reply from Harry's mouth before he dramatically paled.  
  
Ron took the map and looked at it "Well, it appears I owe you an apology...I'm sorry, but you can't deny it's not every day that your best friends parents come back from the dead." This comment earned him a sharp dig in the ribs from Hermione. "We can't tell them the future, it could screw everything up"  
  
"Hang on, if I'm going to die I want to know how" Shouted James  
  
"He has got a point, anyways I think whatever has happened has successfully fucked up the timelines anyway" But Hermione was having none of it, she shook her head.  
  
"We can't tell them anything, imagine what would happen. Our whole future would be different; the first thing we have to work out is when we are. I think we need to speak to Dumbledore"  
  
"Let's get going," agreed Lily  
  
The walk to the headmaster's office was quiet. No one dared say anything to anyone else. Harry looked like he might pass out at anytime. James and Lily where linking occasionally shooting concerned looks at each other trying to comprehend just what had occurred. They were only 17 and had just discovered they were going to have a son and they were going to die before he finished high school. Hermione and Ron walked behind James and Lily with Harry. No one attempted to speak and Harry was grateful for this, his throat was so tight he seriously doubted he could have spoken a single word. Getting to the gargoyle a variety of sweets, both muggle and wizard, were shouted before the stairs started to ascend. Knocking on the door Harry felt a feeling of dread at the pit of his stomach. How had this happened? The one thing he wanted most in his life was starting to scare him now that he finally had it.  
  
The doors opened and behind the desk sat Dumbledore, looking much like he ever did. Maybe it was them who'd gone forward in time and Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the right place all along. This feeling changed as Dumbledore spoke "Morning, Lily, James and friends. How may I be of assistance?" He had acknowledged his parents but not Harry. They had gone back but how? They did nothing out of the ordinary. They went to bed last night, woke up, opened presents and went downstairs. Nothing unusual there.  
  
Lily was the first to speak "Sir, we where in the common room this morning and these three came downstairs. We don't know where they came from"  
  
Hermione interrupted "You see though, Harry is their son" she said nodding at Lily and James in front of her, "and I think there's time travel occurring here. We are from 1997 so someone is definitely in a place they shouldn't be"  
  
Dumbledore looked perfectly calm at the thought of 3 time travellers appearing in the middle of his school  
  
"Well it appears you three are the travellers. This is 1977, what are you three called?"  
  
"Hermione Granger"  
  
"Ron Weasley"  
  
"Harry Potter"  
  
"Well, I can't deny that this is most peculiar. What happened directly before you met Lily and James here?" Dumbledore enquired  
  
"Well last night we stayed up in the Gryffindor tower together. We are the only ones there so I slept in the boy's dormitory. We woke up this morning, opened our Christmas presents then came down and those 2 were there. Nothing odd happened at all, nothing at all" Hermione recited. She had obviously been throwing ideas around her mind in the same way as Harry.  
  
"Well, with no idea what sent you here I have no way of sending you back. I suggest you think through possible explanations and if you think of anything tell me. Until then I think maybe you should change your names. Harry, it's too late for you. Mr Weasley I think you should be Mr Hitchen and Miss-"  
  
Hermione interrupted once more "I'm muggle born, it will make no difference and lying more than we need to will just increase the chances of us giving ourselves away".  
  
"I agree miss Granger"  
  
"There is one more thing professor. Do you think that Voldemort could be behind this? He's been after Harry since he was born and, as one has to kill the other one it makes sense he's try and get him away from The Order and those who could help. Could that be the reason"?  
  
Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable in the office. Burying himself further into the red leather chair he was sitting in he wished the ground would just swallow him up.  
  
"Maybe, but I still encourage you to think about other possible causes Miss Granger. I have to be off now; I recommend you go downstairs for the feast. I will leave it to you to explain your appearance to others. I will ask some staff members for their held in sending you back. Now, you must be starving, let's go and enjoy the feast."  
  
The group started to walk off towards the great hall, still in an uncomfortable silence. Ron pulled James and Lily off to one side "I'm sorry about before. I know I've already apologised but Harry is my best mate and he's been through so much I didn't want him hurt anymore."  
  
Only Lily replied, Ron had the distinctive impression it was going to take much longer to gain James' trust "It's OK, we probably have acted the same way if the tables were turned."  
  
"What do you mean, he's been through lots. He's only our age." Spat James, still angry with the intruders thrusting a wand in his face.  
  
"You really don't want to know, I can't tell you because then everything would be different, and not necessarily for the better. Also, Hermione would kill me." Ron could ignore the bitterness when James' asked the question but not the scoff that accompanied his answer.  
  
"You want to know? Do you? What bit do you want to know? The part when you die when he's a baby and he survives aveda kedvera? The part where he lives in a cupboard in a magic-hating family? How about protecting the philosopher's stone in first year an after only just finding out you're a wizard? How about fighting a basilisk in the second year and defeating you- know-who for the third time? How about ages 13 fighting off over a hundred dementors? Do you want me to tell you about fourth year? Winning the tri- wizard tournament just to see you friend die and then being used to resurrect you-know-who? Or how about last year, seeing the closest thing you have to a parent and blaming yourself for it, or how about the slanderous reports in the Daily Prophet throughout the year? You see, he's famous your son and he hates it. Don't ever scoff at what he's been through again and if you tell anyone I've told you this I will hurt you". Ron rushed off to the others leaving James and Lily together.  
  
James' waited until the threesome where out of earshot "Well that's a pile of crap, only a patronus could drive away dementors and look at him. No chance, I still think this is a fix. And how about that about surviving Aveda Kedevra as a baby? Everyone knows it can't be blocked."  
  
"James, we don't know anything for certain. Anyways Dumbledore trusts them and he wouldn't do so without good reason. I hear he's a damn good legilimens. He'd know if they were a threat". Lily replied.  
  
James looked at his girlfriend and simply said, cool as a cucumber, "I don't trust them as far as I could throw them"


	2. 20th Ramsbottom

The CLH years  
  
Cannon Lewis was your typical church hall, from the dusty floor to the strange salty smell and the limp brown curtains hanging at the full-length windows. It was nothing special and definitely nothing extraordinary. The only interesting feature of the whole room was the 7ft piles of chairs stacked along one wall in bright red and deep brown. Occasionally they would fall over and hit some poor unsuspecting brat on the head; and that was about as close to action as CLH ever got.  
  
The mundane establishment was used for a range of mundane tasks, Mother's Union, Brownies, Tumble Tots, and all the usual value-added organisations yuppie scum liked to attend or send their kids; even if it was for the sole purpose of being able to brag what a huge part they played in village life.  
  
Yet this wasn't the case for everybody, for the children of the yuppie scum CLH was something more, it was theirs. It was where everything for young people occurred and it was the foundation for many of the personalities of those who attended it. Lives where formed around this little hut and it's muddy car park, and events which happened before could have a direct effect on the future.  
  
Morning  
  
Nicola woke up to the familiar sound of Mike Toolan on the radio "And now from the heart of Manchester, this is the North West's number one radio station, this is Picadilly Key 103". Really not in the mood to finally raise herself out of bed Nicole randomly threw her hand from under the warmth of the thick duvet which currently bound her and slammed it against the radio. Mike Toolan instantly shut up. Resigning herself to the inevitability of having to rouse herself for another fun day in the local educational establishment know as "the university on the hill" Nicola swivelled out of bed, absently mindedly ran her hand through her hair and started to descend the stairs.  
  
She was grateful for the quiet, both her parents were abroad on business trips and Nicola being an only child had only the company of her soppy cat and mad dog for the next 2 weeks. After feeding her co-habitants she set about making her self some breakfast eventually stumbling back up the stairs in her 1800s farmhouse and into her bedroom. Looking in the mirror her reflection stared back at her. Masses of deep dark hair fell at her shoulders, this coupled with her dark skin made her look almost Mediterranean. Nicola had always been of the fuller figure but had a perfect complexion that her friends would most probably kill for.  
  
It took the usual 20 minutes to get changed for school; there was a certain procedure to be followed each morning. A semi-ritual. The tights had to be put on (2 pairs, 70D), then the knickers. The white shirt was next, then the tie with the sheep's head which even after 4 years worth of practise still took a couple of attempts to get in the right place. Next came the skirt, a positive art form to get to a decent length; 2 turns at the top was Nicolas preferred length, but you had to check that it was perfectly straight and short enough not to be ridiculed but long enough to avoid the mini referrals. Then came the school shoes with the maximum allowed heal of 2 inches. Pulling her hair into a high ponytail Nicola was pleased with the results and pegged it down stairs once more, grabbed her bag and set off on the 1.5-mile walk to Woodhey High School. 


	3. The Workings of Miss Jo

The innerworkings of Miss Jo

5 inch heels - how to spot someone who knows what they are doing in Superdrug. They are the ones wearing ridiculous clodhoppers on their feet usually choking back tears at the same time due to the insults being thrown this way and that from staff, management and customers simultaneously. Jo was one such person, despite her own doubts about herself she was damn good at doing what she wanted doing. Maybe it was the piecing contacts meticulously lined with silver liquid liner each morning or the fragility of her tiny frame Jo commanded respect from everyone who mattered; and the best part about it was she didn't even need to try.

No one's life is special, they all just contribute to the same whole. From the world famous pop stars to the lowly toilet cleaner everyone contributes and no matter how much you think life is glamorous for others only 2 facts remain. You either die young or grow old. Everyone has to wake up in the morning and everyone has to pass the time in some way. In this respect Jo was yet another insignificant piece of dust on the face of planet earth.

Waking up to the familiar bassy beats of Galaxy 102 Jo emerged from the cocoon they call bed, she couldn't actually care anymore. Why should she? Life was bland. Uni Monday – Friday Superdrug the weekend, maybe a couple of piss ups or maybe even a lay along the way. It was so damn monotonous yet it had to be done. Realising that she was going to be late again didn't even bother here. Throwing on the Skouser's, her clod hoppers and an oversized green work-issue sweatshirt she'd worn to work for the past 4 years she performed the make up routine, threw her pre-packed bag over her should and vacated number 14 Rosenman Avenue.

9.15, not bad by Jo's standards. Ok, she was late but she wasn't "we are going to dock your pay late". Luckily for her the boss didn't seem to give a shit she lived in walking distance from the town centre. She had turned up and being one of the few people who actually had any knowledge of shop work in the establishment Rachel was grateful to see her turn up. Throwing the aforementioned bag into her locker Jo kicked the door shut. One of the few perks of work was everyone could be trusted, much to the disgust of the management. You could see the anticipation on their faces each time they conducted a bag search, to them catching a thief was like ecstasy. The only problem was they were either crap at spotting them or there weren't any about, catching them was a rare occasion.. The rare moments of one long bell crated an excitement in the store. The possibility of some action to break up the usual "What shampoo should I use" and "Where do you keep the Vitapoint?"

"Oi! Jo! Hows you!"

The sudden sound of her name startled her, since the beginning of the day Jo had been in some semi-comotose state, almost certainly a result of the lack of sleep the night before. Much to Jo's disappointment the lack of sleep wasn't even caused by anything of note, damn; TV was addictive.

"So, don't I get a hello today" came the usual sarcastic tones from behind her. Feeling it was quite probably time to face the fact she was in work Jo plastered a fake smile to her face and replied.

"Oh, sorry, hi, you alright?" Standard conversation phrase 1 in Superdrug. This phrase would probably be repeated about another 24 times and that's just before morning breaks started. At least 10 of these would probably be to the same person. Yet again the monotony of life kicked in.

General Superdrug Conversation Rule 2 – don't bother listening. Everyone's stories are exactly the same week in week out. Nat will have gone to Atlantis, Will and Lisa to the Hare and Hounds, Dan would admit to nothing.

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A/n

bitter-valentine : Nah, I can see what you mean but the stories are meant to be like this. They are basically being stored online because I use many computers and don't trust floppies. Feel free to read my other stories, they are the ones which I am actually bothering with mainly. These are kind of on-hiatus. Trust me, my usual writing is of a much higher standard.

Feel free to review these as introductions though, because that is basically all they are.


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